Cut Short
by KiniElle
Summary: Albert/Francoise How much harm could a haircut do? Francoise's new look is too much for Albert, when she suddenly reminds him of his deceased wife. "Albert, you look as if you've see a ghost." His eyes shut as his lips parted weakly. "I did."
1. Chapter 1

"Yeah, Francoise, it's nice. You'll be cool in the summer," said Joe very politely. He smiled at Francoise, who fluffed her hair gently with her fingers.

"Thank you, Joe."

She was hoping for more of a romantic compliment, but Joe was being courteous and practical. She had just returned from the salon. While walking through town she noticed a picturesque hair boutique nestled in between the shops. Just as she saw it, an unexpected urge sparked her thoughts. She wanted a change. And she thought, I must first change myself.

It was a small change, and only physical, but still a difference none the less. The stylist trimmed inches off her flaxen hairs. The longest layers that before rested far below her shoulders now only touched her jawline. Although just her hair was shortened, she somehow left lighter.

"We all agree," chimed in the Great Brit, "it's a nice change, simply lovely." His eyes shut as he grinned.

She blushed a bit, now becoming conscious that too much attention was being focused upon her-

A sudden shattering of glass against the floor broke the enjoyable ambiance.

Her blush paled as everyone's head turned to see where the crash had come from. There, in the door frame standing still and quiet and tall was Albert. His hand was frozen by his side. Shards of broken glass lay scattered around his feet, from the glass cup he had been holding.

Francoise's eyes met his. His milky eyes were in shock, and startled, as if he had seen a ghost. They remained locked on her steadily, and intensely blatant. At the moment she grew to feel his gaze had been too penetrating, he swiftly turned and was gone.

The room was left in an awkward and unanswered heavy silence.

"What was that about?" Great Britain was the first to speak.

The warm rays through the windows from the setting sun did nothing to warm her. A shudder trailed through her body. Albert was not only one of her teammates, but also one of her companions, and the calmest and collected in the group. She had never before seen him so haunted.


	2. Chapter 2

Francoise could not sleep. She impatiently glanced at the end table clock. It was 3 in the morning. Sighing, she threw the covers off and sat up. Her stomach growled, she had skipped dinner, perhaps she was hungry. The house was quiet and sleeping, there was no need to throw a robe on over her delicate chemise nightgown. She crept barefoot out her room and into the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, a soft white light filled the kitchen and bathed her silhouette. She stared at the food, nothing catching her eye or sparking her appetite. Before she could decide, a door was open and slammed shut. Heavy uneven footsteps were coming down the hall. She could hear heavy uneven breathing with her specially designed ears. She turned and watched the hallway to see who was up at this time of the night.

Tall with light hair and light eyes, Albert again appeared in the doorframe. He stopped, wavering, and wiped his mouth with the end of his sleeve. Clutched in his hand was a crumpled piece of paper.

She could see he had been drinking. She had never known Albert to have more than a beer every now and again. But it was obvious even without her powerful senses that he was drunk.

"Albert," she said tentatively as she closed the fridge, "are you alright?" This was the first she had spoken to him since the strange seen earlier that day.

He said nothing, but instead moved towards her. She hesitated to take a step back; the stench of liquor became stronger. His body was extremely close to hers, but he stared into her face. Something in his eyes softened. He leaned down, and Francoise froze as a blush crept across her cheeks, his breath was warm on her lips, and he abruptly tilted his head and his lips gently grazed her cheek. He dragged them softly to her ear as goose bumps suddenly raced up her back to her neck. She stood still, in an uncertain shock.

"I've missed you," he whispered in a low, rough voice.

Francoise was confused. She stepped back, leaving him in his pose, her arms across her chest, now feeling exposed. "That's kind of you to say, Albert, but you saw me just this morning." Remembering the strange earlier event and seeing him this way now, she asked again, "Are you alright? You're not acting like yourself, this afternoon it looked as if you had seen a ghost."

His eyes closed and his lips parted shakily. "I did."

Confusion and concern reflected in her light eyes in the darkness. "I don't understand."

Without speaking, he lifted his arm and presented the crumpled paper. Francoise gingerly picked it up and unfolding it, brought it to her eyes. It was a photograph, very old, of a beautiful young woman with blue eyes and short blond hair. Her short blond hair was much like her newly trimmed locks. Francoise gasped. This was his wife.


	3. Chapter 3

The resemblance was alarming.

"You look so much like her… Why did you have to do that?" Tears began to flood his pale eyes.

Francoise' heart dropped, she never would want to instill so much pain on a person, especially her friend. Her body naturally moved to embrace him, and her arms softly wrapped around his shoulders and cradled the back of his neck in her hand. His face nestled in the crook of her bare neck and shoulder.

She could feel his body stiffen at the surprise of her first touch. She felt his lungs shudder and his hot tears down his face and against her skin. He had never appeared so vulnerable. He was hurting, and she had caused it. A tear fell from her own eye.

"I'm so sorry Albert, I didn't know! I just-"

He moved suddenly, his arms accepted her comfort, and he wrapped his arms almost entirely around her small figure. Pulling her against his own taut body, her warmth brought a rush of comfort, as his coldness rushed across her skin, raising goosebumps and sending shivers. She took a deep and steady breath and rubbed from his neck across his shoulders and back. Her touch soothed and tortured him; it was warm and soothing but also reminded him of a certain feminine touch.

"God, I miss her." His voice was muffled against her flesh.

"Shh" she quieted him. "It's alright. I know… I know you miss her."

They stood in the silent, still, dark kitchen, their arms around each other. Albert's subsiding crying the only noise breaking the silence. His body had taken all of Francoise' warmth, she was barefoot and dressed only in her nightgown and she now shivered against him.

Her small movement stirred something in him. He became more sober and aware of his surroundings. His weight shifted and he stood tall again, pulling away from her embrace. He roughly wiped the remaining tears from his face with the back of his sleeve. Francoise crossed her arm across her body, absence of him against her left her feeling exposed again.

He cleared his thought. "Sorry," he said quietly. She could almost make out a soft blush on his cheeks.

"No need to apologize Albert. It's ok to miss her." Her sweet words almost urged him to embrace her again. She looked down at the small photo still in her hand. His bride's sweet face was forever captured in the photo, but his life would continue without her. Unfathomably painful, each day a reminder of what he had lost.

"I just wasn't prepared to see her again." He spoke a melancholy statement, but his voice was spiked with cynical humor. A small smile tugged at the side of his mouth.

She clasped her hands together shyly and bit her lower lip, she felt awkward and out of place. She had reminded a man of his deceased wife, and the man was now making jokes to ease the moment for her sake, when it was obvious his heart was breaking again. But that was Albert. Like herself, always considering the other people in life.

"It's late," she said. "We should be getting to bed, don't you think?"

Albert inhaled deeply and exhaled. "Yeah, I think I need to sleep this off," he said as he rubbed his forehead and clenched his eyes.

Francoise smiled. "Oh, and here," she timidly lifted her hand holding the photograph to give to him. He stared at it silently before taking the photo from her hand and sliding it into his pocket.

"Ok," He sighed again. "See you tomorrow then, Francoise."

"Goodnight, Albert. Sleep well." She longed to be back in her safe warm bed, but she doubted if she could sleep, the events of the night already replaying in her mind.

His turned his back to leave, but hesitated. He breathed in uneasily.

"Francoise," he said to her from over his shoulder, "can you do me a favor?"

She nodded. "Of course, Albert, it's the least I could do." Francoise honestly felt bad that her innocent decision had unintentionally hurt someone, and someone special to her.

He turned towards her. Francoise looked into his eyes with her soft, concerned gaze. His eyes were no longer haunted, but there was something strange in them, which she could not read.

His body was rigid. "Stay with me tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

She stood soundlessly, appearing small by the tall shadows in the room, glowing against the darkness in her creamy skin and white chemise. Her trusting blue eyes looked even larger and more innocent with her short blond hairstyle. Becoming more sober with every passing minute, Albert suddenly regretted letting the request slip out his mouth. He did not regret the request itself. He only regretted verbally expressing it to Francoise.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Francoise. I just," he struggled with his words, "I don't know. I just needed to be with someone tonight. I really thought I saw a ghost today. So many memories I thought I had forgotten… " His body sagged and his eyes closed, haunted by ghosts in his thoughts.

Francoise stood still, feeling uncomfortable, but also drawn to the man on the verge of breaking right in front of her. The situation had become awkward and tense. Albert did not speak, which left Françoise to fill the growing silence.

"I'm not sure if that would… I mean, how would… there's really no…" Francoise's gentle voice trailed off the moment her eyes met his.

She had never seen a man need her with this intensity and honesty. She bit her lower lip gently as considerations and scenarios whirled in her head. Comfort a friend… for one night. The first concept seemed innocent. The second was uncertain. However, she couldn't help but feel bringing up his haunted memories was her fault. There is only one thing he is asking of her to silence immeasurable ghostly emotions she had resurrected. If she had been in his condition, he would have done the same thing she was about to do. Any time she needed anything, he indulged her. This was his need tonight.

"Albert," she said softly, "You are my friend, and I would do anything to help you."

His body relaxed, a swell of relief washed over him. He would not be alone with his discomforting thoughts and tonight would no longer feel endless from the darkness of the night and his mind. He ran his hand through his hair and breathed in and exhaled deeply, a sigh of heaviness being lifted off.

"Francoise, thank you… but, I still smell like my last few drinks, so I'll wash off first. You know where my room is, if you don't need anything from yours… Maybe, actual clothes to sleep in?"

For the first time, he glanced down from her eyes to her silhouette. She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms across her body awkwardly.

"Now that you mention it, I think I am feeling a chill now. I'll change and meet you there." She hoped it was dark enough to hide her slight blush.

"Sounds like a plan." The sides of his lips pulled up. The sight almost made Françoise smile as well. But before she could, he turned and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Françoise remained a moment like a deer in the headlights, wondering what on earth she had just agreed to. She heard the pipes in the house that led to the bathroom fill with water. A sudden jolt of excitement ran through her body and she walked quickly to her room to change.

Quietly and barefoot, she walked into her room and slid open her dresser drawers. There were a few civilian day clothes and socks. In the top drawer were basic undergarments, some even more revealing than the nightgown she currently wore. In her closet were uniforms. She silently cursed at her limited wardrobe. The house became silent again, Albert had finished showering quickly. She didn't want him to think she abandoned him when he walked into his room and she wasn't there, so she closed the unaccommodating dressed drawer and went down the hall to his door, hoping to be there before he was.

Inside his room was plain and neat, there was no clutter or clothes on the floor like in Joe's room. A few books were stacked on his desk. The only thing that seemed out of place was a picture frame tuned over on the night table. Her curious fingertips touched the back of the frame when she suddenly sensed footsteps coming towards the room. She pulled her hand to her chest and wondered where she was supposed to be when he walked in.

Lying in the bed? Too presumptuous. Standing in the room? Too standoffish. Sitting on the floor? Not even an option.

Sitting at the foot of the bed seemed her best choice. Hearing footfalls growing louder, she hastily sat down on his bed, trying to look as calm as possible.

His frame came into view and filled the doorway, but his face was covered by the towel he was using to dry his hair. Francoise used this moment to simply look at him, without him seeing. His grey t-shirt and flannel blue and grey pants made him look the most casual she had ever seen. The towel dropped from his face and draped around his neck. Her eyes quickly met his. He too simply looked over Francoise, even knowing she was aware. A little smile tugged at his lips.

"What happened to changing?" he asked, referring to her chemise she still wore.

She almost pouted. He knew how much she was doing for him, but he couldn't help but tease her just a little bit. "I'm sorry but I don't have an extensive eveningwear collection." She said as she slightly held up her chin. He grinned at her, and then looked away.

"That's fine by me."

Francoise lowered her chin. A slight thrilling chill went up her spine, but then disappeared.

He slid the towel from around his neck and tossed it over the desk chair. He walked to the side of the bed and Francoise did not know why her heart was suddenly beating faster. He stopped by the night stand for a moment, and looked at the overturned frame. Without turning it over, he opened the night stand drawer and placed it inside. Francoise watched silently, observing his uneasy stance, not wanting to pry into his personal troubles. He took the wrinkled photo from his pocket and placed that inside as well. He stood silently for another moment. Francoise stood from the bed and reached out to touch his arm.

"I'm ok, Frannie." He said before she could speak. His hands went to his neck and pulled the necklace from under his shirt. Francoise's hand pressed against his chest, holding the necklace against him.

"No, Albert, you never take that off." Francoise protested. "I know you are hurting, but what good is it to get rid of the happier memories?"

Albert looked into her eyes. Even in the dark, his eyes reflected soft and pale. Francoise stared into them, trying to find how to help him regain his stability. She could see suffering, but also courage. And if she looked deeply, she could see strength.

"Even the happy memories are torturing me tonight. Please, Francoise, I need to do this."

She stared into his eyes for a moment before letting her hand fall away. He still felt the warmness of her touch on his chest, perhaps above the hollow of his soul. He lifted the chain from over his head and gently laid it in the drawer. He closed the drawer and sighed. He couldn't tell if he felt better or worse.

During his quiet deliberation, Francoise noticed her eyelids were becoming increasingly heavy. Unable to hold it back, Francoise let out a quiet yawn. Albert looked at her from over his shoulder.

"I didn't notice, it's past your bedtime."


	6. Chapter 6

"Go on, get comfortable." He said as he nudged her arm and moved past her. Her smooth skin thrilled his fingertips and warmth traveled all the way to his chest.

Francoise slid under the covers. The sheets were cool and soft and her tiny body sank into the soft bed.

There was something familiar about it; she had slept in Joe's bed before. As soon as she was under the covers she would fall asleep. But there was something exciting and electric about being in Albert's bed that kept her awake.

As he turned out the light, the room was cloaked in darkness, except for the soft white glow of the moon from the window.

He lifted the covers and lay down. She felt the bed shift to support his weight. He sighed heavily into the darkness.

Both bodies lay silently, separately.

"I owe you an apology." Albert's deep voice broke the silence.

Francoise turned onto her side to look at him. "An apology?" Her brows were furrowed and her hands under the side of her face. He continued to lie on his back, but his head tilted to look at her. He nodded.

"I didn't tell you your hair looks nice."

Francoise blushed, but then felt conflicted. Why did he think it looked nice? Because it reminded him of his deceased lover? Or maybe because it looked beautiful on her?

As if he read her mind, he continued. "It's true, I mean it." He turned onto his side and reduced the space between them. His nose almost touched hers, but she didn't move. She looked down shyly. She watched his chest and arm. His arm suddenly moved and his fingers brush the bangs off of her forehead.

"I'm sorry if I ruined your haircut. That was selfish of me." His breath was warm against her lips. She felt her flesh tingle and warm. Why did he have to be so close? She tried to find her voice.

She started, "It's no problem, Albert, I'm not sure I like it so short anyway." She shrugged and looked down again. She noticed her nipples perking through the sheer nightgown she wore. She hoped he didn't notice, too. She suddenly felt his fingertip trace slowly down her cheek. She kept her eyes low and her lips parted.

"Short, long, it doesn't matter… you're beautiful."

Her eyes locked with his. Somber and serious, reflecting pure honesty in the words he had just spoke. Her heart beat pounded in her chest, in the same area where warmth was growing deep inside. His hand glided down her arm and rested on the curve before her hip.

Her body focused where he touched her, sending waves of excitement from her core to her fingers and toes. How could a mere touch tease her body this way? In that moment, looking into his eyes, she knew she cared for Albert.

God, he could feel her warmth from through her sheer nightgown begging his fingers to feel her without the fabric. He was a cyborg, but he was still a man. Francoise looked so much like her… full of life and femininity. She was now lying in his bed, reminding him of the first night with his wife. Something inside him stopped… this was not his wife… he had to remind himself, this is Francoise. He cared too much about Francoise to make a mistake and ruin the friendship between them during his grief. He was about to move his hand from her hip when suddenly, her hand touched his face. Light and soft, and warm, it drew his face closer to hers.

"Francoise," he breathed, "you don't have to do this. I asked you to keep me company, not anything more."

She smiled softly, curving her soft pink lips, and said "I think we both need this." She let her eyelids fall and drew him closer. Albert leaned his head and softly, hesitantly brushed his lips against hers. A soft sound of pleasure came from her lips, and he pressed his lips expertly against hers. Tension in her body grew between her legs, and her chest felt as if it would burst. His hand moved to the small of her back and pressed her body close against his. Her arms were placed around his neck as they shared warm, wet, fulfilling kisses.

His hand wandered to her naked thigh and he gripped her flesh for a moment, savoring the feeling of her bare against his hand. She felt his hand, and wondered if he dared to move under her chemise. His hand traveled upwards, to the hem of her nightgown. Her body ached from his kisses and desired release. The palm of his hand brushed against her hip bone and panties. She moaned, surprised by the closeness of him to her most special part. Her moan broke the kiss they were sharing, and he froze.

Francoise panted, "Are you alright?" Her heavy lidded eyes looked into his. His eyes were open, and she could tell he was thinking.

"Francoise," he breathed, "We shouldn't do this."

Francoise could almost pout.

He continued, breathing almost into her, "I care for you, and I see you care for me, but I feel like I'm grieving and I wouldn't feel right using you, Frannie."

Using her? She felt a twinge of embarrassment. Here she was wrapped in his arms in his bed thinking he cared for her the way she cared for him… how foolish she was. She suddenly felt ashamed.

The room was illuminated for a moment as a lightning strike from a newly formed storm traveled through the clouds. Thunder rolled across the sky and echoed in her lungs.


End file.
